


Woof

by AnnetheCatDetective



Series: On the Story [4]
Category: Transylvania 6-5000 (1985)
Genre: M/M, Master/Pet, Nonsexual Pet Play, Puppy Play, for real this time, the pet play may be nonsexual but there is also sex, these two vanilla idiots try to figure out what a kink is part 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: Jack finally feels ready to tackle this thing head on, no distractions. Just him and his good boy, and a day off to figure everything out.





	Woof

**Author's Note:**

> (finally the one I accidentally had some of the information for with the last ficlet…)

Jack wakes up on his day off, without the aid of the alarm, at not long past when he would have woken up for work. The light through the window is the same, the weight of Gil's head on his chest... He'd fallen asleep with his head on his pillow, and migrated over to Jack during the night, also the same as most mornings. 

 

He runs a hand through Gil's hair, smiling at the snuffling breath and the way he turns his face in against him, the little don't-wake-me whine. 

 

He weighs out the things he'd been considering over the course of the week, and there'd been a lot of things. He'd spent a lot of time privately turning over the question of whether he really was kinky and never knew it about himself before. Tried to imagine different things, and come to a few conclusions.

 

He doesn't want to spank Gil, or anything in that vein. The idea of Gil lying across his lap is not unattractive on principle, the idea of having him squirming and begging is also not unattractive. The idea of hitting him, even if it wasn't really hard enough to hurt, that part puts a damper on everything else and makes Jack's stomach feel small and tight and weird in the opposite direction from the whole dog thing. So that's out.

 

Tying Gil up? Also no. The sight of Gil tied up has not traditionally filled Jack with any emotion but dread and worry. He'd just be untying him immediately. Which is fine, as Gil has not traditionally enjoyed being tied up anyway. And sure, Jack knows it would be different with the two of them, it would be a game, kind of, or at least it certainly wouldn't be dangerous, but isn't it enough to know he wouldn't like it? There's no dark, secret part of him that thrills to the idea. If there's a dark, secret part of Gil that does, it's not for the ropes, he imagines, but the rescue. And with how often Gil winds up in trouble in the course of even the stupidest investigations, they don't need to set up any fake rescues.

 

What else do kinky people even  _do_? Jack really doesn't know, and he really doesn't want to find out. Whips and chains, he guesses, but that's just a further degree of the spanking and the ropes, when you break it all down to the basics. Leather, but that's not even worth thinking about, Gil would look ridiculous, and he would _feel_ ridiculous. And uncomfortable. Lingerie? Also ridiculous, frankly. When he tries to imagine it, it's not sexy, and the Gil in his imagination whines about chafing or poor fit issues rather than posing seductively and begging to be fucked. High heels? He'd be seven feet tall and he'd break an ankle at _best_ and probably his neck, and nothing about that appeals to Jack in the slightest. He doesn't really care about anyone's shoes but his own, and Gil is the exact perfect height as he is, he's Jack's height, they were  _made_ for each other-- or, if not 'made', they grew into being perfect for each other, and that's even better. He just can't think of many other things people have fetishes for dressing each other up in. He likes Gil in soft sweaters and his ridiculous pajamas and in nothing at all. 

 

And then there's the dog thing. Which is definitely a thing some kinky people do, based on how the young woman in the diner had talked about it, she'd just been remarkably easygoing about the matter, but then, she'd been weird-ish and probably if he'd asked her, she'd have told him all sorts of things kinky people do that he'd never have dreamed of and does not want to start dreaming of. 

 

He likes the dog thing. It's not sexy, so he's not sure if that counts, but the degree to which something in him he can't name  _responds_ to it, what else could it be? He likes Gil, a little bit helpless and a lot bit adoring, needing him. Not to bail him out of trouble or edit his writing or to sort the laundry into lights and darks and colds and warms so they don't wind up with blotchily colorful whites and shrunken sweaters, but for... Well, okay, Gil kind of needs him for everything as it is, but it's only because he grew up with someone else doing his laundry and no one ever taught him how, and because he can't really be trusted in the kitchen, and because he doesn't really trust his own voice, and he's just the kind of guy who gets into trouble a lot and he needs _someone_ , but...

 

It's different. Jack doesn't want Gil to need _someone_ for everything, he wants Gil to need _him_ for everything. He doesn't want Gil to need him to cook because Gil can't, to sort laundry because Gil forgets, to drive because Gil takes wrong turns with an unnatural reliability, he wants Gil to need him for all of those things because it's _them_ , because Gil can't do without him. He wants to mean something to him that normal people don't mean to each other. To be something that other couples, however in love, aren't.

 

"It's our day off." Gil whines, arm tightening around Jack's middle. "Stop  _thinking_ so loud."

 

"I'm thinking about you, does that make a difference?" Jack grins.

 

Gil is suddenly very awake, his head popping up, a certain hopeful look in his eye. "About me, Jack?"

 

"What else would I be thinking about, with you on top of me?"

 

Gil shrugs, cheeks going a little pinker. Although he's always a little flushed when he first peels his face off of Jack's bare chest in the morning, the warmth of being all pressed up together through the night's sleep... There's something attractive about it. Sweet, sometimes, when he's still blinking away sleep and Jack just wants to cuddle him back down into it, even if they don't have the luxury of time. Sexy, sometimes, when he's got his thigh thrown across Jack's early morning hard-on and he's just awake enough to appreciate it, and Jack can't not think about how flushed he gets when they make love, and he just wants to flip them over and...

 

He's not sure which he wants more now. They have the luxury of time for either a little dozing off, or a little fun. He is hard, or half hard anyway, and Gil is really only half on top of him, but he's nudging right up against Jack's cock, his own trapped down against Jack's thigh, full and firm...

 

"C'mere…" He guides him up, high enough to kiss his forehead, feeling the way Gil reacts to a little further friction between them, just as a byproduct of their shifting a little. He's not sure how Gil is comfortable contorting himself around in his sleep the way he does, wrapping around Jack like a koala, curled in on himself in a way that can't be great for his back just so that he can get down against his chest, without throwing off the way their bodies align too much.

 

He's ridiculous, but Jack loves him. 

 

"What are you thinking about me?" Gil presses, straightening up a little more to kiss Jack-- just gentle, off to the side of his mouth, as if they won't both forget all about morning breath the moment things heat up. He traces little looping hearts over Jack's chest, and on anyone else who wasn't, say, a girl with her first real boyfriend, it would seem like an affectation, but there's something unbearably earnest in just about everything Gil ever does... It might be silly, it is silly, but it's not an affectation, and Jack would miss it if he ever stopped.

 

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." He admits. "Because I either want to tuck you back into bed to sleep in until it's time to feed you pancakes, or I want to fuck your brains out."

 

" _Oh_." Gil licks his lips, pupils dilating, hand settling against Jack's chest a little more firmly, sliding down a little to just brush the edge of his nipple. "Um... would you still be feeding me pancakes?"

 

Jack laughs.

 

"Because it seems like I'd have much more of an appetite after... that second thing."

 

"Yes. Yes, I will feed you as many pancakes as you want. No matter what we do." He considers Gil a moment. The very definite flush spreading down his throat now, the slightly breathless note, those eyes... "All you have to do is ask me for what you want, and it's yours."

 

"... Pancakes?"

 

"No, Gil. I mean... I want you to ask me, for what you want first. I want to hear you say the words." He cups his cheek a moment, lets his touch slide down the side of Gil's neck, making him shiver. 

 

Is this... is this outside of normal? It's hard to think of it as kinky, but then, he doesn't know what anyone else's normal is. It's new, that's all, the realization that he can drive Gil wild with a touch and the knowledge that he loves driving him wild. But isn't that what most people like, with a lover? It's just that it's different from their usual, and he's never been dissatisfied for a moment with their sex life before. Their usual is measured, but not boring, there's nothing boring about having Gil's body beneath his, Gil's cock hard against his, the slide of them past each other, the kisses and the whispers, the puzzle-piece-perfectness, the timing... There's a thrill in having this power over him, but it's not as if Gil doesn't sometimes touch him in ways that make him a little crazy. It's not as if Gil couldn't wrap Jack around his finger with a look. It's not as if the power doesn't go both ways. 

 

He does want to make him say the words, though. He's never actually heard Gil say 'fuck', Gil has a certain bizarre primness where language is concerned, sometimes. Which is not to say he doesn't throw himself into talking dirty on the odd occasion, he just doesn't say 'fuck'. He says 'cock', he says a lot of very complimentary things about various parts of Jack's body and he tells him that he'd like to get his hands or his mouth on those parts, and he says he wants Jack to take him, ravish him, wreck him, ruin him, the things he  _says_ when Jack is sucking him off, no one else would ever believe of him. Just... he'd kind of like to make him say 'fuck', just once. There's definitely a thrill in that. 

 

"Oh, what-- what I want  _first_." Gil licks his lips again, nodding. "Uh, well I definitely want that, that second thing. With you, and me, and, um..."

 

"Uh-huh?"

 

"What, uh, what would that constitute, exactly?"

 

Jack can  _feel_ Gil's cock throb against him.

 

"What would what constitute?" Jack grins. Okay, so he's teasing, but... Gil is so tease-able. He defies anyone to blame him, how could he resist making such a... such a darling man blush and squirm and whine and giggle? He walks his fingers up Gil's spine, pausing in contemplation of a nearby ticklish spot before moving on. "Exactly?"

 

"You, you... _fucking_ my brains out." Gil says it all in a rush, and Jack feels a definite throb of his own.

 

"Well... first I guess I'd flip you onto your back... line us up the way we like... hold your hands the way you like, you do like that, don't you, Gil? And I'd start out slow, and steady... that's what I like. Feeling you under me, feeling that build, slow... and steady."

 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." Gil nods, swallows. He's already a little dewy with sweat, flushed and aglow, and the look in his  _eyes_...

 

"You like the sound of that?"

 

"I like the sound of that, Jack... I mean, um... Wow. Yeah, I like the sound of that. What-- what's not to start out? I mean, what's after that?"

 

"Oh..." Jack's grin widens, and he shifts them a little so that he can rock up against Gil's hip a little, let him feel how ready he is... "Well then... I'd latch onto that... that pretty little throat of yours. Leave a  _mark_. Just one that'll last until we have to go back to work, nothing too bad, but... something you'll see in the mirror today. And that would drive you wild, I know it would, and once that happens, well, Gil, you'll drive  _me_ wild. So I'll start speeding up... and then you'll come for me, and, uh... well, that's mission accomplished, isn't it?"

 

" _Yeah_. I mean-- no! I mean-- only if you come, too."

 

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about that." He chuckles, nuzzling at him and getting a hand down between them to pluck at his buttons. "Listening to you come for me, I'll be right with you. Aren't I always?"

 

"Well-- not that one time..." Gil shrugs, squirms a little. 

 

Jack had still  _finished_ , it hadn't actually taken him that long-- he's pretty sure finishing within two seconds of each other on a regular basis actually isn't normal, but it's  _their_ normal, it's Gil's normal, and he had been awfully sweet about making up for the time difference the one time it had been more than that, gotten his hand around Jack even with sleep already tugging at him, but they've traded handjobs in the shower often enough that he could probably finish Jack off in his sleep. He's offered, actually, to let Jack use him for a second round even if he can't wake him up. Which is maybe something some kinky people do, but the idea just makes Jack sick. He'd been quick to refuse. Even with permissions in place... it's just not okay if Gil isn't awake and enjoying it with him. 

 

"You'll get me there. Then you can take a quick nap while I handle breakfast, huh? Bring you a plate right here in bed?"

 

" _Jack_ , you spoil me too much..."

 

"Impossible. Spoiling you is my job."

 

"I'm pretty sure it's  _not_." Gil laughs, wriggling out of his pajamas, face crinkling into a grin when Jack kisses the end of his nose. "Making my crap a little more readable, maybe, but this is well outside your job description."

 

"I  _wish_ I could just get paid for spoiling you."

 

"I don't." He pulls a face. "It would be weird if I hired you to do that, but it would be even weirder if you were still working for my father."

 

"... Good point. Spoiling you is my _hobby_ , then. A thing I derive great enjoyment from. You wouldn't rob me of my enjoyment, would you, Gil? You wouldn't do that to me. Not when I enjoy it so, so much..."

 

"Oh-- well--  _gosh_ , if that's how you feel about it."

 

"Oh, it is." Jack says, and he wraps one hand careful around the back of Gil's neck and rolls them, and it's a move he's done more times than he could count, but Gil gives that same delighted little gasp every time, and he wraps his arms and legs around Jack and kisses him, before he surrenders his hands to be held.

 

Jack laces their fingers together, looks down at Gil, Gil... flushed and sweating and starry-eyed, with that dizzily adoring smile, with that little sigh when their hands are joined, and the way he moans as they rock together. How he begs to be kissed, and how could Jack refuse him? He dives into it, feeling the way Gil moans into the kiss, the way Gil's body rolls up into his like a wave, his whole body... 

 

It's the one-ness of it he really needs. Getting off is good, it's not like he'd be happy to go without sex, but he could cut down on it if it wasn't the easiest way to feel like he and Gil were one person, all the borders between them rubbed away. He'd be happy to take it down a notch if he could feel like this any other way.

 

And, as predicted, once he latches on to leave a somewhat gentle hickey-- one Gil could cover with the right shirt collar if he's wrong about how quickly it will fade-- Gil goes  _wild_ , speeds the pace between them up, bucking up into Jack, begging... showering him with praises he's not sure he deserves or ever could, but he'll take it, he'll take it all.

 

Gil comes, gasping and babbling, whimpering when Jack keeps on rocking into him, his softening cock trapped between them, and Jack eases up, releases one of Gil's hands to come down between them, strokes Gil's face as Gil gets him off, pets at him and kisses him, whispers love into his mouth and along his jaw to his ear.

 

Gil is already falling back asleep while Jack gets them cleaned up, and he kisses his cheeks and lets him, tucks him in. Picks up his pajamas from where they've been scattered and folds them, places them on the dresser.

 

He's so cute, slack with sleep, his hair a little wild still, his cheeks still just a little too pink, high bright spots of color yet to fade... Jack leans over the bed and finger-combs his hair back into place a little before leaving him, getting himself cleaned up in the bathroom, going through enough of his own morning routine. He doesn't bother dressing in more than his robe, he's not going anywhere. All he wants to do is make breakfast and then spend as much of the day as possible in bed. With Gil.

 

This... the dog thing, the feelings it sparks in him that he doesn't know what to do with, is that... is it something they could do, to take away the gap that makes them into separate people? Is that what people get into this stuff for? On the surface, it doesn't look like it would do that-- him playing the part of the master to Gil's puppy, it seems like it would only widen that separation, heaping control and power on one side and not the other, except... Except, taking care of Gil makes him feel complete. Taking care of himself doesn't make him feel much of anything. Taking care of both of them, though... 

 

He doesn't know. He knows every time he thinks of it, every time those feelings flare up in his chest, familiar but so much fiercer... the focus of it is Gil, and the thought that if Gil was his, utterly and completely, his and helpless without him for even just half an afternoon now and then, it would ease some fluttery panic in him. The kind of little panic that comes and goes sometimes and usually isn't very strong, the one that bubbles over when he wonders what he's doing with his life and whether being an adult is just working a job you hate until you die, that... that useless, helpless feeling, it would be smoothed over and eased away if he could take care of Gil like that.

 

He focuses on making the pancakes, on everything being just right. Not that it takes a lot of focus when he's made pancakes every weekend-- or every day off-- since he's been able to cook for himself. But he focuses on it because they're for Gil, are a part of taking care of him, and the focus isn't about whether he needs to concentrate, but about the fact that Gil deserves his concentration. Dropping the handful of chocolate chips into the dollop of batter spreading out in the pan to form a smiling face here or a heart there, getting the timing right on flipping them, so that there's not a bad one in the batch. Well, not too bad. None of them are particularly deformed, none of them especially over- or under- done. There are some that are his because they aren't quite as nice, aren't quite how Gil likes them, or the chocolate chips settled in not-quite-a-picture. But they aren't obviously wrong, either, he won't set the tray down for them only for Gil to say Jack shouldn't always take all the 'bad' pancakes or anything like that. He's been making pancakes regularly for long enough that unless there's some disaster in particular, none of them come out so badly. And if they did, well... honestly, there are worse punishments than a sub-par pancake. 

 

He makes up two cups of coffee, Gil's teeth-achingly sweet, a soft warm tan with milk, his own with barely a splash of cream, just enough to disqualify it from being black, a spoonful-and-a-half of sugar. Two plates of pancakes, with butter spread over each one, half a sliced banana on each plate and just a little hit of powdered sugar. A little drizzle of maple syrup on Gil's, because Gil thinks maple and chocolate taste just fine together, and he has a sweet tooth anyway. The vegetarian sausage Jack doesn't really  _like_ , but he likes it more than some things, anyway, and it's protein, and Gil has never once complained about it. Gil had decided in a panic when he turned thirty that he was going to eat soy and grapefruit, and that health kick had lasted about a week, but he still does eat those things now and then. With Gil's metabolism continuing to be what it is, it's just as well he returned to the world of pancakes and burgers. Jack is pretty sure he's never once enjoyed a bite of grapefruit in his life, though he doesn't complain about that, either. He thinks he does like the vegetarian sausage, though. The health thing is somewhat mitigated when you drag it through maple syrup, but... well.

 

Someday, someone is going to invent a fake breakfast meat that makes you feel as good as if you were eating actual meat, and on that day, Jack is going to be a happy man, but until then, Gil could be happy enough for both of them. 

 

The smell of coffee and breakfast is enough to have Gil stirring from his post-orgasm nap, a lot faster than anything else ever gets him up, and Jack watches him sniff, and turn his head, and stretch a little before opening his eyes and pushing himself up to sit.

 

"Oh... _Jack_." He smiles, as if this was a rare occurrence, as if Jack didn't bring him breakfast in bed after soporific morning sex half their days off at least. He piles their pillows up against the headboard and takes the tray first, so that Jack can climb back into bed without worrying about it, and then he passes it back. "... There's only one fork."

 

"There is." Jack reaches over, cutting a bite, offering it up with a hand below to catch any drips of syrup. "Open up."

 

" _Oh_." Gil comes over all wobbly and grinning, and he accepts the bite. 

 

"Good boy..." Jack sets the fork down a moment. "How is it?"

 

"Mm-- perfect. Jack... I'm not your dog." He says, though there's a little waver to it, an uncertainty, and Jack reaches up to stroke his cheek, hand brushing his neck lightly on the way there, and he sees the uncertainty solidify into something very certain, and in the opposite direction. "Unless-- do you want me to be?"

 

"That's what I've been thinking so hard about." He shrugs. "Drink your coffee. We shouldn't... we shouldn't talk about this until you're awake."

 

"I'm awake!"

 

"Really awake. Awake-awake." He taps Gil's nose gently, and gets him a bite of disgustingly syrupy sausage, which Gil is only too happy to accept. 

 

"Mm- no, but I am, Jack! Really. Awake-awake-awake. And you should eat something, too, while it's hot."

 

"Well... do you want to be?" Jack asks, and he dutifully feeds himself a little while Gil thinks the question over.

 

"What would it... be like? Just you feeding me? Telling me I'm good?"

 

He nods, swallowing and taking a little sip of coffee. "About that. I don't... It's not really a sex thing. And I don't care if you really pretend to be a dog or not, it's more... Sometimes I don't know what to do with the way you love me. And sometimes you're... you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen and I don't know what to do with the way I love you, either. And sometimes I think... It's stupid."

 

"I don't think it's stupid." Gil shakes his head.

 

"I haven't said it yet."

 

"Well I won't think it's stupid."

 

"I don't really know how to put it. Sometimes I think... I think a lot of things. I don't know. I wish I was closer to you, which is... I don't know how we'd be any closer. But it... I don't know, I just... need to feel like you're with me, like you need me. Like we're..."

 

"Special." Gil breathes. "I do need you, you know I do. And I know how you want it to feel. Like I could crawl right inside you somehow and just be one person and that would make everything easier."

 

Jack nods, stunned. It had felt too weird to put into words, that desire, the need for a one-ness beyond what they find in bed. He offers Gil another bite, feels a little sense of normalcy return with the way he hums gratefully around it, the look in his eyes. That look like nothing Jack could say would be more out there than what Gil is ready for, that look that says he's so glad to be fed, that he knows what that represents, too, what it means to Jack to do it, that he loves him for it... 

 

"Special. Yeah." He whispers, touching Gil's cheek again. "We have something, don't we?"

 

"Of course we do. So... I mean, I don't really mind. Being your dog. I mean, if you just want to feed me and... and if I'm a good boy. Or... I mean, I don't know. I never had a dog growing up, what do you do with a dog? Go for walks?"

 

"I'm not taking you on walks." Jack says firmly. "This isn't something I want to advertise, Gil, I don't... This, uh... I mean if a stranger we'll never see again says something, that's one thing I guess, but I don't want to, to share this. You know?"

 

"Oh, that's a good point, I didn't think about that. I mean... you could take me on human walks. But not on dog walks, you're right."

 

"But other things." Jack softens, offering another bite. "Brush your hair out for you. Have you sit on the floor beside me and pet at you. Let you lick my hand. You'd hop up and curl up on the sofa next to me and put your head in my lap while we watch TV, or... You know, if I told you to, you'd come up and cuddle. You could still talk, you could wear whatever you were going to wear. I mean I don't want to get weird with it, you know?"

 

Anyone else would probably laugh at him. 'I want you to be my dog but nothing freaky', what a thing to say to a guy. Gil doesn't laugh. Gil just nods. 

 

"I think I'd like that." He says. "It doesn't have to be weird. Um... but you'd... you'd _hand_ -feed me?"

 

Jack chuckles softly, getting another syrupy bite of sausage cut with the side of the fork and then presenting it in his fingers. And there's... there's that feeling, at having Gil eagerly lick away every trace of that syrup, that could have easily been a sex thing, except it's _not_. He could let Gil cover him in-- well, hopefully not maple syrup, actually. Chocolate syrup, maybe-- and lick him clean, and that might be incredibly sexual, but this just isn't. It's cute-- the little hums of enjoyment, the care and attention in getting his fingers clean, the affection and devotion shining in his eyes. He's cute. 

 

"You are a good boy." He says, low and warm, and he hooks his ankle around Gil's, and that still isn't sexual, isn't a come-on, it's companionable. And Gil, Gil wriggles like a puppy just gobbling up praise and attention, and lets Jack feed him-- pancake by fork and bites of sausage and banana by hand-- a little while longer before he casts a reproachful look to Jack's own too-full plate. 

 

He watches him eat, leaned up against his shoulder. He sips at his coffee, and sighs frequently and happily over the whole state of affairs. There's some companionable footsie-playing, for warmth and nearness, and nuzzling kisses. And by the time Jack does finish his own breakfast, it's pretty cold, but he doesn't care. 

 

"Um..." Gil hesitates, as Jack starts to get up with the empty tray, and so he settles back down, nodding for him to continue. "What about your face?"

 

"... What about my face?"

 

"Do I get to lick your face?"

 

"Do you _want_ to lick my face?" Jack asks, eyebrows lifting. It doesn't sound like a very Gil kind of a thing, but then... this is new for both of them, really. He was maybe a little too skeptical about it-- Gil looks down at his lap, face going all red, and Jack quickly cups his chin, bringing him up to be kissed all over. "Hey, hey... hey, no, come on, of course you can. A little, at least. You want to?"

 

"Kind of. Not in a weird way. Well-- I mean--"

 

"Not in a weird way." He smiles, kissing Gil's cheek again. He laughs, startled, when Gil licks his chin, tongue just reaching the corner of his mouth before it's gone. "Good boy."

 

He sets the tray off to the side, but spends some time just lounging in bed with Gil, trading chaste little kisses here and there for eager, not-too-sloppy licks, petting at him, scratching bluntly up and down his ribcage until he does that puppy-wriggle again, and then wrestling him up into his lap for a good, firm hug. 

 

It works, he thinks, to lean into it. To relax and let it be what it is, and not worry about being too weird. To just touch Gil and hold him and play with him... the sort of gentle roughhousing he'd started up all the time before they started sleeping together, that he'd done less once they had tenderer ways of touching each other, but he'd missed it. He'd realized how much he'd missed it the last time he'd wrestled Gil too-gently to the ground, but it's a little nicer to pull Gil up on top of him to be held and patted and ruffled. To not look at it as something they did once instead of sex and don't need to do anymore, but as a separate physical need in their relationship, to get that feeling, the level of pressure, to pretend at being rough and tumble even when he's incredibly gentle with Gil, always. To feel Gil relax, too, when his back is rubbed, quick and hard, when he's petted and patted just so. 

 

It's different, but not so different he can't recognize bits and pieces of other things that made them happy before. Gil, laughing and grabbing onto him and just holding tight, letting Jack do whatever he wants, touch him however he wants, trusting him to only do the things Gil likes. Collapsing after enough rolling around and touching, his eyes bright and his chest heaving a little, and he's still completely naked, and it's still completely non-sexual. 

 

"Stay." Jack orders, grinning at the little 'aw' that follows the order, and the way Gil scoots towards the edge of the bed after him when he gets up to take the tray back to the kitchen, but doesn't leave the bed. " _Stay_ , and you'll get a treat when I get back."

 

" _Jack_..." He whines, but he stays. Jack gives his nose another gentle tap, earning a little smile. 

 

He washes the dishes as quickly as he can, coming back to bed with the bag of chocolate chips. Good thing they're taking the whole dog thing pretty loosely... if he had to pretend there were things he couldn't feed Gil, well... it would be more work for him, and Gil would enjoy it less. Predictably, Gil does not argue that dogs can't have chocolate, he just perks up when he sees the bag. The chocolate chip bag he is not allowed to pilfer from during the week if he wants to have them for pancakes, but... well, no harm in buying a new bag a little early, now and then. Maybe they'd pick another bag up on their weekend and make cookies. Maybe they'd do a lot of things. But... first, some more time spent forgoing pants and staying in.

 

"Were you a good boy while I was gone?"

 

"Yes!" Gil promises, and there's that puppy wriggle again. He really is perfect for this... "I haven't left the bed at all and I waited so long!"

 

Jack knows exactly how long it's been, and they've been apart longer. Although... not often, he guesses. Hardly ever, really. 

 

To be fair, if they're in separate rooms for more than the length of time it takes for one of them to go to the bathroom, either one of them is asleep anyway or they're both working at some task. Or Gil is in trouble somewhere and needs some comforting once Jack has him back again. But Gil waiting on the bed doing nothing isn't the same as having separate chores or errands to occupy them. That's fair... 

 

"Okay, okay... Good boy." He sits on the bed, winds up with Gil laying across his lap. "Hey, hey, up. You can't eat when you're lying down."

 

Gil sits up, snuggling his way into the open vee of Jack's robe a long moment before he moves back enough to let himself be fed. 

 

"I'm glad you're back." He says. "Jack-- Jack? I love you."

 

"And I love you." Jack laughs, cupping his chin and kissing his nose-- laughs harder when Gil strains against his grip to lick his face again. "Oh, honey... Next time you can sit in the kitchen while I clean up, if you miss me so much."

 

"I miss you _so_ much." He sighs, pressing his face into Jack's. "Jack, Jack, Jack, I could help with cleaning up, you don't have to do everything alone."

 

"Yes I do." He presents Gil with the first chocolate chip, smiles as Gil licks his fingers after it, a little excessively. "I have to do everything to take care of you, you're a puppy. You're _all mine_ to take care of."

 

" _Oh_." He swallows. "Okay."

 

He thinks he counts out about ten chocolate chips, one at a time, but it's hard to keep track, with Gil squirming and licking his fingers and cuddling up to him. 

 

"Jack?" He asks, his voice soft, as Jack stashes the bag over in his nightstand and goes for Gil's hairbrush. 

 

"What is it, honey? Hm?" He comes to stand by the bed, running his non-licked hand through Gil's hair before taking the hairbrush to him, carefully neatening him up-- watching the way he leans into it with a sigh, the way his eyes flutter closed. "You like getting brushed? We could do this, you know... It-- it doesn't always have to be a big, long thing, you could be a good boy for me for just a couple minutes some mornings, if you needed it, and I'd do this for you..."

 

"I love you. That's all."

 

"I love you, good boy..." Jack smiles, running his hand over Gil's hair again. 

 

"I do like when you brush me."

 

"Okay. I can do it any time you want me to."

 

"Jack... it's really okay, if... I mean..." Gil pulls his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs and looking up at Jack. "If it's like this?"

 

"Of course it's really okay. This is perfect. You're perfect. You're my good boy and I love you, what could be wrong?"

 

"I don't know. I mean... shouldn't I say 'woof' and stuff?"

 

"If you want." He snorts, tickling Gil's ribs a little, teasing a smile out of him instead of that lost, confused look. "But you don't have to."

 

"I just want to do this right, I just-- I want to be a good dog!"

 

"You're the best dog." Jack promises, leaning in to kiss his forehead. Gil leans up to lick at his chin again, looks a little less uneasy.

 

"Really?"

 

"Really."

 

"And you love me?"

 

"I _adore_ you." Jack says, gets his arms around Gil and dips him, cradles him close. "More than anything, more than life. You're _mine_ and I love you. And I'll spend the rest of my life taking care of you, honey, I will."

 

"Oh." Gil shivers in his arms, grins up at him with that look, all dizzy and starry-eyed and lovestruck. " _Woof_."


End file.
